


Of Things Broken

by princessmelia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 1x20, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger, Anger Management, Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, nothing personal, suggested abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessmelia/pseuds/princessmelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag to 1x20. It's not the first time Simmons has seen Fitz's outburst of rage. A Fitzsimmons piece that deals with broken promises of fathers and broken objects in a room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Things Broken

The Academy room was quiet save for his voice—like the quiet before the storm. Simmons sat cross legged on his bed, biting her nails. He was breathing deeply and it was getting increasingly faster. His hand clutched his mobile tight enough to turn his knuckles white. 

“No. Thanks, Mum. Yeah, thanks for telling me. I love you too.” He clicked the phone off and slammed it on the table. The sound echoed around the room.

When it stretched on for what seemed to be an eternity, Simmons asked, “Fitz?”

“That lying bastard,” he said. “He promised!” And then the moment Jemma had been dreading happened—Fitz picked up his phone and flung it at the wall. “No more drinks, no more hitting! That’s what he said!” Metal clattered noisily to the floor.

“Fitz!” She grabbed at his arms. “Fitz please, not again.” But it didn’t matter what she said when he was in that mood. Paperwork flew through the air like a whirlwind of anger. Light bulbs cracked as lamps fell like trees in a forest. Gadgets thudded like thunder in a storm.

It wasn’t until there was nothing around him to throw that Fitz stopped, gripping Jemma’s shoulders for support with his head ducked low. Tears ran down her cheeks. She’d seen him like that a few times before, but it was never easy to see her best friend go through that much pain. She tried to wipe the tears away before he saw (not wanting to upset him further), but he glanced up and saw them anyway before looking away in shame.

“I’m sorry, Jemma. I’m so sorry. I promised you no more and… and…,” he swallowed heavily, looking about the room. “I’m no better than him.”

“Don’t say that.” She lifted his chin up with her hand, forcing him to meet her gaze. The grip on her shoulders lessened slightly. “You stopped. Your father…” She shook her head. “Look, you are not him, alright? Not a scratch on me. Though the wall may not be your biggest fan at the moment…” The joke was said weakly, but it brought a small grin to his face all the same. Jemma kissed his cheek gently before pulling back. His breathing was almost back to normal. She thought they would make it through.

That is, until Fitz said, “He’s dead.”

“Oh. Oh, Leo.” She gathered him to her chest, hoping the contact would offset another attack. His arms embraced her tightly, and he cried harshly into her shoulder.

“I wished for it,” he confessed in his sobs. “For it to be just me and Mum. Now it is, and I… I…” The sobs racked his frame and forced Jemma to hold him tighter.

“Hey, hey. You didn’t make it happen. You’re okay, Leo. You’re okay.” She rubbed comforting circles in his back and ran her fingers soothingly through his hair, just like his mum did for him at home. Slowly Fitz relaxed in her arms, and his sobs turned to hiccups which turned into stray tears until there was nothing left. The room lay in a disaster around them, but they would worry about it come morning. For right then all that mattered was what they held in their arms.


End file.
